I cried at work yesterday. Heavy sighs. Mental block. Exhaustion. In hindsight, though it was in the privacy of my basement studio, it was a childish reaction.
I’m sitting on my front steps. I moved a wreath of dried herbs and flowers to the hook on my 100 year old front door and it looks really nice. The plants all look good thanks to the rain and the sweet potato vine is literally reminding me of my best friend.
Birds. Morning. Ya know.
I just finished a 50 minute kundalini practice, complete with chanting Ek Ong Kar. It has been since May that I have taken the time to practice. The most interesting part of yoga to me is the inner dialogue. When you’re new to practicing, you acquaint yourself and become a witness. I believe this is the majority of the work.
When you have experience with yoga, you know this voice. For me, after not practicing for so long, I heard this pleading, scared, tired, voice. And I felt the relationship between this voice – ego – and my reaction to work.
Enter stage right, my prayer life.
It has been months since I have seen my prayer beads – actually well over a year. A string of beads I put together, each with a person or a theme. Work has a bead. Purpose and creativity has one. I taught workshops on putting together your list and then shopping beads to match.
People loved those workshops. They were rich and fun and interesting in their dialogue.
Dialogue.
Last night, after a grueling day, Lucy came out to the front porch where Ellen and I were still sitting, digesting dinner.
“Why did you throw your prayer beads away?” She asked me. I was honestly perplexed. I sent her in to take care of the recycles and she came out curious about my prayer beads.
I was feeling loopy and off kilter from the day. What was she talking about.
Sure enough there they were in her hand. She showed me what she was doing, emptying a box of papers to be shredded and there they were at the bottom.
Crying at work is not who I am. I held the work bead and the creativity purpose bead in my hand and took a few deep breaths in before starting back at this puzzle. I worked until about 10 pm and shrugged at my attempt. Curious to move on.
I am finding myself aware of my tools and feeling a proverbial slap in the face to wake up and remember gifts and poise and breath. I am glad for the very real experience of struggling with yourself on the mat so that others don’t have to struggle with you unnecessarily.
Gotta keep my energetic self clean. Cared for.
Hot water with lemon.
Morning yoga.
Prayer Life.
Frozen Spaghetti 